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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558726">there's no time like the present</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappinessIsBlau/pseuds/HappinessIsBlau'>HappinessIsBlau</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Him [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Cunnilingus, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation Kink, Other, this is graphic and tyelko is enjoying himself</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:59:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558726</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappinessIsBlau/pseuds/HappinessIsBlau</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are you doing here?” you managed, a bit less accusatory than you’d like, and he just grinned at you, all white teeth and intention that made you shudder in anticipation.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Celegorm | Turcafinwë/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Him [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>there's no time like the present</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is a sequel to my other celegorm/reader fic, unexpected variation in daily habitual activities, but you really don't need to read that to read this first unless you want to...</p><p>it's the result of very specific conversations and too much mother mother, both of which can be blamed on the same person (you know who you are)</p><p>um, pretty graphic mention of menstruation ahead, smelling and tasting and fucking and all that good stuff. its not SUPER DUPER graphic but enough to make you uncomfortable if you're not cool with the topic at hand. please be safe! </p><p>oh and please forgive any grammar issues, i try to read over these before i post them but i embarrassed myself with this one so i may have missed a few things.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The days were fading slowly from summer into autumn and the trees that you loved so dearly were turning hue from green to warm reds and yellows and browns. This part of the year meant harvest and more responsibility than fun, but after sweltering days and nights you found yourself always looking forward to this time of year.</p><p>You found yourself not minding the repetitive daily tasks now that the heat was starting to become less severe; things that would have made you sweat and curse a month ago were now back to their normal monotonous selves again, and allowed you to zone out and let your thoughts wander back to the spring, only a few mere months ago, when you found yourself in the woods with a stranger who railed you into the dirt with such vigor that it left you limping.</p><p>You allowed yourself the indulgence of stopping your task and leaning against one of the wooden support beams, squeezing your thighs together as if it was substance enough to replace the feeling of him inside you, and winced as your menstrual cramps overcame you for a moment, causing you to hold your abdomen in an attempt at self-comfort.</p><p>The quietest creak behind you caused you to jump, flushing as if caught in the act of something other than standing and resting, and you turned around to see what it was you caught the slightest glimpse of something at the top of the hayloft ladder.</p><p>You found yourself annoyed, now, suspecting perhaps one of the barn cats that enjoys the loft to have been up there again eating mice and leaving the skeletons for you to unfortunately stumble across later, you shook your head to rid yourself of thoughts of the past and of your unfortunate monthly condition, and climbed the ladder.</p><p>When you made it to the top of the ladder, nothing seemed amiss at first. You peeked behind one of the hay bales and when you turned back there he was, the stranger from earlier this year, looking the same as your memory engraved him. He seemed even taller now standing upright here and if your heart wasn’t beating so quickly in both surprise and muscle-memory you’d have scolded him for sneaking up on you.</p><p>He held up a hand to quiet your stuttering and you stared at it, remembering those long fingers in your hair pulling and holding your hips as he fucked himself with you and you could feel your temperature rising.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” you managed, a bit less accusatory than you’d like, and he just grinned at you, all white teeth and intention that made you shudder in anticipation.</p><p>“I did not take you for a fool when last we met, but perhaps I was mistaken since you seemed so preoccupied then,” and his tone was just as you remembered too, honey-sweet and patronizing in a way that made you feel that he already knew that he was going to get what he wanted from you.</p><p>“I – I cannot do – do that,” you quite nearly whispered, “now is not a good time,” and you hoped beyond hope that he would not ask for you to explain yourself, but he just leaned towards you, trapping your body between him and the haybale that was now behind you, and he brought his index finger to your chin.</p><p>“There is no better time, actually,” he ran his thumb across your lower lip and then brought his tongue straight across his top teeth, and then bit down on it, pulling you in for a kiss that was quite nearly violent with the collision of your mouth and his.</p><p>Despite the fact that you were still unsure that he fully understood your particular condition, you allowed the distraction with complete enthusiasm. Truth is, you’d been thinking about him nearly every day since you met, and were hoping to meet him again. As the spring turned into summer and summer turned again, you eventually began to doubt that you’d ever see him again. The only things that you had to remember him by were the tattered remains of your clothes and the underwear that he had slid back up your hips. You’d kept them despite how damning they’d be if someone else had found them.<br/>
He broke off your kiss and pushed his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and then licking gently at the sheen of sweat that started there from your work downstairs but also the warmer-than-comfortable temperature up in the hayloft. </p><p>His tongue was distractingly hot and wet against your skin, and you couldn’t suppress a moan when his teeth grazed against you and he bit down on your collarbone harder than you would have anticipated. He sucked meanly for a moment, not letting up with his teeth until it almost hurt too much, and then he backed off and gave a long lick across his handiwork. It already throbbed angrily with every thud of your rapid heartbeat.</p><p>He pulled open your shirt with careful intention and nipped meanly down your sternum and then held you against his chest to lay you onto the hayloft floor a bit more gently than you would have expected from him. He fiddled with the rest of your clothes, pulling them off and discarding them into a pile next to you. Your automatic reaction was to slam your thighs shut but he caught your knees and held them open, kneeling between your splayed thighs.</p><p>You flushed even darker at his attention, knowing that it would now be incredibly obvious as to why you had cautioned him earlier. The shame nearly brought tears to your eyes and you moved to sit up and withdraw yourself but he caught your thighs and wrapped his forearms around them. He nuzzled his face against you, inhaling deeply again, and then sliding open your labia with his tongue and burying it against your slit, groaning in what was undeniably appreciation at how wet you were for two reasons.</p><p>It took a moment for your initial shock to wear off until you finally melted into it, letting your thighs go slack and mussing his ponytail as you tried to bury your fingers in his silky hair. He responded in turn by wrapping his lips around your clit and stroking it with the tip of his tongue in circles that made your toes curl.</p><p>He cursed and squeezed your thighs where his hands were still holding them open, glancing up to watch you as you watched him. The corners of his mouth were still curled upwards in [mischievous satisfaction], his cheeks and nose smeared wet and bright red as if he was an animal enjoying a fresh kill, covered in viscera and entirely self-satisfied.</p><p> His sharp teeth grazed your clit carefully and delicately but jarring enough to make you yelp and pull his hair and he groaned and withdrew one of his hands from your thighs and pressed two fingers against your opening that you took with more ease than you expected, given your hypersensitive state before he had even begun eating you out. He hissed as he watched himself finger you, bringing more blood up from inside of you that he lapped up eagerly, groaning in what you could only describe as satisfaction at the tangy, musky taste.</p><p>The combination of his fingers scissoring inside of you and his lapping at your opening with his tongue sent you over the edge, pulling hard on his hair and riding his face as best you could – as best he’d let you. After a moment, you withdrew your fingers from their soft hold and he panted against you, kissing your mons pubis and shoving his red-stained fingers in his mouth to suck on them. </p><p>It was obscene in a dizzying way to watch him so shamelessly enjoy what he was doing, despite – or if his earlier teasing was to be believed, because – of your menstruation. His face was covered in even more blood now and he made no move to wipe it off -- instead he eyed you over carefully as if he was going to devour you entirely and fumbled with his belt, undoing whatever this clothes situation was and settling overtop of you, watching with dilated pupils and complete rapt attention as he pushed into you, blood and fluid gushing out around the pretty pink tip of his dick as he eased you open around him.</p><p>If it wasn’t for his earlier efforts it would have been uncomfortable to be penetrated, but despite the initial discomfort of stretching around his substantial girth, now that he was fully inside to the hilt you ached for him to move.</p><p>“So impatient as always,” he teased, and you were proud to hear the strain in his voice as he tried his best to keep his cool. He started to move slowly, pulling out just the smallest amount and then pushing in, the blood that coated his dick made the initial thrusting just a bit sticky-uncomfortable but as your body lubricated him it settled into slick bliss that made you nearly incoherent.</p><p>“So - so good,” you heard him mumble and it stabbed through your heart like a knife and you tightened up around him and he cursed in response.</p><p>A sudden noise from down below the hayloft immediately attracted your attention and his, too, judging by the immediate halt of his hips. You writhed under him, desperate for him to move inside you, but also terrified of the consequences of getting caught, especially now that he was wearing your blood like a trophy of conquer. </p><p>Much to your horror you heard voices below you, quiet enough that you couldn’t tell who it was but loud enough that it was unmistakably human (or human-esque, anyway). You knew that he knew, too, but that didn’t stop him from resuming his thrusts, now more slow and shallow and infuriatingly not enough that you wanted to beg him to speed up but you didn’t dare open your mouth. He snapped his hips against yours suddenly, forcing himself in deep and your instinctual reaction was to bite down hard on the forearm that was next to your face that he was using to brace himself.</p><p>He made a quiet, immediately repressed noise that was more surprise than anything and you carefully extracted your teeth from him once your brain caught back up with the rest of you. You shot him an apologetic look that was immediately forgotten when he snapped his hips against yours again, pushing uncomfortably against your already sensitive cervix and you screamed silently under him and took in a deep breath through your nose as soon as you knew you wouldn’t make any noise. </p><p>That just encouraged him more, sliding nearly the whole way out just to push back in so forcefully that it slid you everso slightly across the floor, and you were vaguely aware at the tiny thought in the back of your brain that you’d certainly be caught if one of the rafters decided to creak tellingly or if the wet-sucking sounds of him fucking you filtered down through the hayloft floor to their ears. Every wonderful-horrible, painful-blissful deep thrust inside of you was accompanied by more blood and juices that were dripping down your ass and puddling under you. </p><p>After a painfully long moment, the sounds of quiet footsteps and fading voices alerted you to the fact that whoever almost discovered you had left, finally.</p><p>“You are not the exhibitionist that I thought you were,” he whispered hotly, “I was certain that you wanted everyone to know exactly what you are doing, mewling like a bitch in heat like you are.”</p><p>You opened your mouth to reply but it was again forgotten as he readjusted over you again to watch himself fuck into you, still admiring the draw of blood he could pull from inside you with every movement he made and how it stained his skin too.</p><p>Being stared at like that was too much for you and you moved to rub your clit that was being neglected by the change of his position. He batted your hand away and rubbed his thumb across it, picking up his pace at the urging of your tightening muscles around him until finally you came hard around him, your body milking his cock inside you.</p><p>He picked up the pace of his own thrusts, a bit more hurried and frantic with the aftershocks of your orgasm still around him, and he spilled into you with a satisfied sigh. You watched him dreamily, admiring the way that his hair was sticking to his face and his ponytail had become wholly undone somewhere along the line.   Once spent, he pulled out with a wet sound that sent more fluid down the crack of your ass, making you shiver. He manhandled open your thighs again to gaze upon his handiwork, blood and come and body fluids painting the landscape of your lower body with red smears telling the tale of what you’d done.</p><p>Now you were just embarrassed at being looked at like that since the intimate moment had passed. He leaned forward and slurped indulgently at the blood and come leaking out of you and you slapped him with your open hand. He grunted and sat back up, licking his lips like one of the cats that had gotten caught drinking out of a milk pail.</p><p>“Oh, please, as if your pride is wounded,” he teased when he caught a glimpse of your disbelieving look, “you cannot let someone fuck you until you are senseless and then act as though you have moral superiority afterwards.”</p><p>He handed you back your underwear and then thought better of it, wiping off his cock first and then his face, even though it didn’t do much to remove the now-dried blood from his cheeks. He shoved your underwear against his face and inhaled deeply, biting down on the cloth and chewing it in a way that reminded you of something a dog might do. He pushed his fingers against your labia again, his middle finger finding your opening and pressing against it just to see his slick tainted with blood come out around his finger. </p><p>“So good,” he said again around your underwear, more to himself than to you, and you whimpered at him. He finally removed them from his mouth and tucked them away in a pocket somewhere.</p><p>“Fear not, little one, as if you are as good as you were last time then you have not seen the last of me. Hold it all in for me, and go back to your menial tasks. Every blissful ache you feel, remember me.”</p><p>And, though his exit down the ladder to the hayloft was a bit less graceful than last time, he was out of the barn in only a moment.</p><p>At least this time he didn’t destroy your clothes.</p>
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